My Biggest Fan
by SetsunaNoroi
Summary: Ember is a jaded rocker who knows fame aint what it should be. Dash is a light-hearted bartender who kicks back in life after his accident in pro football. She just needed a phone but he gave her a friendly ear too. So, can he give her more? T for cursing


Well, I've been writing a lot of yaoi pairings lately, and I decided to write one with a heterosexual couple in Danny Phantom. Gasp! I KNOW! HOW WEIRD!

I'm kidding. Actually, since I am writing a fic with Danny/Sam as a background it shouldn't be considered that odd of me. Still, I've been having an itch to write something and this kind of popped into my head. I'm surprised there isn't more of this pairing considering how big of an Ember fan Dash is. In fact, I think I may be the first to come up with it. Okay, I know she's a ghost that wants to take over the world through fame and he's a jerky closet gay 14 year old, but hey, it could work.

This is an AU fic, mostly cause it made the story a lot easier to write. Ember might be a little OOC as she really isn't that into the whole being famous thing, but it's gonna be explained. Also, she's a human, which could just explain it in of itself.

So anyway, I don't own Ember, or Dash. Would be cool, but I know it ain't ever gonna happen. Too bad, but I can deal. Oh, and I also do not own the lyrics in this chapter. They belong to the artist Billy Joel, for his song _The Entertainer_. I figured since it's a story focusing on a singer and musician, it would be fun to put lyrics at the beginning of each chapter. I don't own them though.

Chapter One: The Entertainer

_**I am the entertainer**_

_**And I know just where I stand**_

_**Another serenader**_

_**And another long haired man**_

_**Today I am your champion**_

_**I may have won your hearts**_

_**But I know the game**_

_**You'll forget my name**_

_**And I won't be here in another year**_

_**If I don't stay on the charts**_

Heavy thuds sounded on the concrete as Ember ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Her chest was heaving as she made her way down the empty sidewalk, black leather hardly the best thing to run in, but she didn't really have much of a choice.

"Dammit," she hissed as she ran. "Dammit!"

This was such fucking bullshit. All she'd done was go out to buy cigarettes. She'd thought at this time of night, it would be fine to do. But no, someone in the bloody gas station had to recognize her and start screaming in excitement about how it was Ember McLain. How the cameras and the fans could just pop out of nowhere so fast every time was something Ember would never be able to understand. The flashes from the hand held cameras and phones, the people trying to push ahead of the crowd to see her or touch her first... it sickened her how quickly it always happened.

Hadn't they gotten a clue from the fact she'd had her hair tucked up in a hat and heavy sunglasses hiding her face and tattoos? She hadn't wanted to be bothered. She'd just wanted her fucking cigarettes.

Wouldn't her running have been obvious too? But they'd just pursued her. It's not like getting away was hard, but the fact she had to do it period pissed her off.

She ducked behind a corner and peered out of it. She didn't see anyone. Leaning her back against the wall, she sighed and clenched her eyes shut. Her sides burned, and she just wanted somewhere to sit down and relax.

The hotel was pretty far away, and she knew it was going to take forever to get back. She couldn't go back the way she came without running into the group she'd just escaped. Of course... she didn't really know this place that well either. They'd come to Amity Park for a new production deal with a big shot called Masters or something like that. He wasn't all that interested in music, but his company was interested in the profits that would come in the promotion of her newest concert and C.D. He knew she was a good cash cow.

She snorted and shook her head. A cash cow. Not a musician. A fucking cash cow.

The sound of a heavy metal door opened and she looked up, seeing a tall blond man in a black T-shirt and blue jeans walk into the alley, a bag of trash in his hands. He looked over at her in curiosity and she immediately shoved herself off the wall, ready to leave before he started to bother her too.

"Are you okay?" he asked as he threw the bag into a dumpster. He peered at her, seeing her breathing deeply and dressed in a heavy leather jacket and a hat, despite the summer heat.

"Fucking peachy," she said and ran her finger over the edge of the hat, trying to make sure some strands of her telltale blue hair hadn't started poking out.

"Cold?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she snapped. "Please, just leave me alone. I'm not in the mood, okay?"

He shrugged.

"If you want," he said and stepped back inside, the door shutting with a thud behind him.

She sighed in relief, glad he hadn't bothered her too much. It was so nice to be left alone when she'd asked for it. When was the last time anyone had ever given her that?

She cursed under her breathe and realized she needed to get back to the hotel. Her manager would probably freak out when she realized Ember was gone, if she wasn't already. She certainly couldn't walk back, so she guessed she might as well call them. She could check out the nearest street sign and have someone pick her up. She was certain to get yelled at, but that was going to happen when she got back to the hotel anyway. Why not just get it out of the way now?

She fished in her pocket for her cell and furrowed her brow in confusion when she didn't find it. What the hell? She checked her other pockets before she froze. She remembered now, she'd pulled it out and set it down on the counter of that crappy little 7-11 when digging out some cash to buy her Menthols.

"Well fuck," she muttered. Great. How was she going to get in contact with them now? She had no change, and even if she did, she hadn't seen any kind of pay phone while she'd been running her ass off like she was trying to get away from a lynch mob.

She looked to the steel door and groaned a little. This was obviously a business part of town. She was sure she could use the phone if she asked. Besides, it was so late, she doubted anyone else was even in any of the other stores.

Striding up to the door, she slammed her palm on the door several times, hoping the guy could hear her and would be nice enough to do her a favor after she'd effectively blown him off.

After a moment of nothing, she figured he was either ignoring her or just didn't hear her before the door opened ajar and he looked at her curiously.

"Yes?" he asked. "Can I help you?"

"Yeah," she said. "I kinda... need to use your phone if that's okay."

"Sure, no problem," he said and opened the door for her to let her in. "In fact, it's peachy."

She glared at him and he smiled at her, laughter in his blue eyes. Ignoring him, she made her way past him and into the low lighted area and saw she was in a bar. The stools were all pushed against a bar with a rag resting on it and all the tables had chair slipped over on them. It was spacious despite all the furniture and there was a band equipment like speakers and instruments on a decent sized stage. She saw it and smiled faintly, it bringing back memories.

"Hey, the phone?"

Ember looked up suddenly, her thoughts broken and saw the guy had gone behind the bar and was holding a cordless phone out to her. Walking over to take it, she indicated to one of the stools in questioning and he smiled.

"Go ahead."

She pulled it out and sat down, dialing her manager's number and holding the receiver to her ear. Idly watching the guy get back to cleaning the bar, she heard the phone ring a few times before someone answered.

"_Who is it?!_" a angry female's voice sounded on the phone. Usually overly cheerful, somehow it suited being pissed of just as well. Looked like her absence had been noticed.

"Hey Miss Spectra," she said. "I guess you know I'm missing, huh?"

"_EMBER?!_" her manager, Penelope Spectra, shouted over the phone. "_What did you think you were doing, disappearing like that? We have a possible multi-million deal about to be made tomorrow and you're missing! Where are you?! What are you doing?! Do you want me to kill you?!_"

"Jeez, take a chill pill Miss Spectra," Ember groaned. She'd long since pulled the phone from her ear. God, that harpy could yell. "I just went out to buy a pack of smokes. I'm fine, just need a ride back to the hotel."

"_A ride? Why, what happened?_"

"Uh, someone kind of recognized me," Ember said and cast a glance over at the man. He continued working, as if he couldn't hear the obvious conversation. "It was when I was at the gas station. Before I knew it there was all this shout and shit and I had to get out before it got too crazy and... well, I got fucking lost."

"_Oh, this is just wonderful. Ember, this is why we hire people to do things for you. I mean, anyone could have gone and bought you cigarettes!_"

"That's not the point! Where's my fucking freedom?!" Ember yelled on the phone, forgetting there was someone else there. "You're telling me that I can't even go out to take a walk when I want to."

"_I'm not, it's the public who wants a piece of you so bad they're willing to chase you out of a gas station that is,_" Spectra said soothingly. "_Ember, you have to realize this is for your own good. Not everyone has your interests at heart._"

"You sound like someone's mom," Ember grumbled, even as she admitted to herself that Spectra had a point.

"_Oh, please don't start that again. I'm nowhere near old enough to be thinking about children. You're going to make me feel old._"

"Miss Spectra, you're over thirty. That's not-"

"_DON'T SAY IT OUT LOUD_!" she cried out over the phone, nearly blowing the rock star's eardrum out.

"Okay, okay! Shit! I'm sorry," Ember snapped. "Look, can I just get a ride back to the hotel?"

"_I'll come pick you up personally. Where are you?_"

"Uh...," Ember trailed off. "Just a second." She waved a little at the blond and he looked up, questionably. "What's this place called?"

"13th Heaven," he answered. "On Pandera Street."

She repeated the information back to her manager, and with a promise she wouldn't run off again, the good byes were said and she hung up the phone and set it down with an angry sigh. She thought she heard a faint snickering and glared over at the man, who indeed had a crooked smile on his face. She glared at him, but he only ignored her.

"So," he said. "Out of curiosity, who exactly are you? I tried not to listen in, but I have to admit, the conversation was a bit loud."

"Oh, who the fuck cares?" she muttered. "It's not like it matters if you know or not."

She stripped off her jacket, sunglasses and hat. It was hot in the bar anyway. Not as bad as outside, but the extra clothing was still killing her. Smoothing out her long dyed blue hair and black velvet shirt, she wasn't surprised by the eyes widening slightly when he saw her.

"Ember McLain?" he asked, a smiled on his face. "Wow. I'm-"

"If you're about to say you're my biggest fan, just save it, okay?" she snapped. "Not that I'm not grateful for you helping me and all that, but do you know how many of my 'biggest' fans I've met over the last year?"

"Actually, I was gonna say I was honored to meet you, but I guess that's hardly any better," he said, smiling despite her attitude. "Besides, I wouldn't say I'm you're biggest fan. I think my best friend Kwan would fight me to the death for that honor."

"Hmm," she muttered noncomplying.

"Care for a drink?"

She looked up at him for a moment and shrugged.

"Sure, why not?" she said.

"What's your poison?" he asked as he pulled out a glass.

"A glass of Rum's fine," she said, then figured she was being pretty rude to the guy who had done her a bit of a favor. She guess she should try to strike up some conversation with him. "So, what's your name anyway?"

"Dash Baxter," he said as he poured her the drink. "Nice to meet you."

"Dash?" she repeated back to him. "Kind of a weird name."

"More weird than Ember?"

The rock star opened her mouth to say something, but she didn't have a reply to give.

"Okay, I'll give you that one," she muttered.

He just shrugged.

"I like it well enough," he said, not specifying which name he was talking about, and smirked at her. He seemed to do that a lot.

She took the glass and drank some of the alcohol, letting it slide soothingly down her throat. It was a pretty good brand. She felt herself relax a little as she placed the glass down, the quite atmosphere pretty nice actually. It reminded her of her old haunt back home, back before she'd gotten famous... and trapped.

"Like it?" he asked after she downed nearly half the glass, topping her off without asking her if she wanted him to. She didn't mind.

"Yeah," she said. "It's a nice quality."

"Glad you think so," he said. He went back to wiping down the table as he talked. "If you don't mind me asking, what's the famous Ember McLain doing in Amity Park. This certainly isn't the most lavish city in the world. Are you doing a concert?"

"Something like that," she said and took another drink. "Actually, a record deal too. A guy named Vlad Masters of Dalv Inc. wants to have a hand in distributing my next one in his stores and sponsor my concert. He has some products he wants slap my face onto, and my producers are going for it."

"Vlad Masters?" he asked and gave a little whistle. "That's big stuff. He must be pretty impressed with your music if he wants to start selling your records."

"He's impressed with the money I make," she snorted. "He couldn't care less about my music, and the same can be said of every single fucking person involved in my life."

"That's kinda harsh," he noted. "You seem kinda bitter."

"Why shouldn't I be bitter?" she asked him, her anger flickering. "I just tried to go out and buy some menthols tonight and nearly got stomped to fucking death by people who think just because they listen to my music I want to be mauled by them. I have no freedom to go out and when I do I either have to be escorted by security or I just have to sneak out in some damn disguise. No one sees me as a person being anymore. My life fucking sucks!"

"You still make music though," he said. "There's that, isn't there."

She looked at him. She'd expected him to say something like 'Well, that's what being famous is about,' or 'But think of all the money you make'. She wilted a little and looked at him, wondering if he could understand her anger. No one else could, but no one else listened period.

"At first," she confessed, "I loved being famous. Making music was my passion, and all I wanted was to spread it everywhere. To me, nothing was better than a crowd chanting my name. But... after a while the feeling died. My music use to have meaning, use to have a message. Now, I just sing. Half the songs get so edited it's like it's not even my music, and arguing with the corporate suits about it gets more and more frustrating. They think they know music better than me, a musician, just because they have a whole bunch of numbers and charts to back them up. It's like I go up on stage, and I have no more way to control what gets played than my guitar does. And then there are the fans. The scream my name, but I know it's not for me. I don't think half of them listen to the words I say or the messages I wanted to convey. They just listen cause I'm the newest thing."

She sighed softly and took another gulp of her rum before continuing.

"I think that's the fucking worst too, you know? Knowing deep down they aren't cheering for me. Yeah, it's my name they're saying, but it could so easily be someone else's name. And I know it will be. I'm no different than any other shock rocker, and the music industry had made sure of that. They know what sells, and that's all they want. And when I've been around for a while, they'll forget. None of them are going to remember me, or who I wanted to be."

"Realize all this in a year?" he asked as he propped his elbows on the table, listening to her woes.

"A lot of shit can happen in a year," she said. "Time goes by fast."

"What'd you do before you were famous?" he asked.

"Part-time jobs and playing in a bar like this actually," she said with a wistful smile. "I loved it too. Back then, there was freedom to my music, but I was craving more. The people loved me there, and I thought if I got famous then even more people would love me. I didn't realize how impersonal it would get so quickly."

"I guess there's a bad side to everything, but don't you think that means there's a good side too?" he reasoned with a small smile.

"What, you get that from a damn fortune cookie?" she snorted.

"Actually, _Tau's Guide to Bar Tending_," he replied with a deep chuckle. Ember thought it was a nice laugh. It suited a guy his size. "My friend lent it to me. With a job like mine, it helps to be able to lend an ear and a few nice words. Means bigger tips."

"Tips?" she asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Well, we all gotta eat. Not all of us are rich and famous divas."

"I'm not some shitty diva," she snarled.

"Neither am I," he said with a grin. "Good thing too. I'd look atrocious in those pants."

She rolled her eyes at his joke, but he seemed to find it humorous enough for the both of them. His broad chest shook a little as he laughed lightly and she found herself smiling.

"You're fucking weird, you know that?" she said.

"Maybe," he said with a shrug of his shoulders. "But at least I make interesting conversation. Or would you rather sit in silence while you wait for your ride?"

"No, talking is fine," she said.

"So, can I ask you something else?"

"If I said no, would you not ask?"

"No, not really."

"I should have figured," she muttered.

"Well, I guess I am a bit of a nosy fan," he admitted. "I wanted to ask, what's the deal with the skin and hair? Are the rumors about you being dead true?"

"Oh god," she muttered. Right, how could she have forgotten about that one? The rumors had spread around like wild fire when she'd first been introduced to the music world. Pale skin, blue hair. The theories had run wild. According to her fan website she was either a ghost or a vampire. From the way she dressed, most people guessed vampire actually. "Do I look fucking dead to you?"

"Dunno," he said. "What do dead people look like?"

"I'm not dead," she snapped at him. "I just..."

He seemed to notice her discomfort and frowned.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to pry. I guess I should have known better after what you'd just said to me."

"No, it's cool," she sighed. "You know those people who have allergies to really strange thing, like the sun?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm kinda like that," she answered. "It's a light case, but I didn't know about it when I was a kid. My parents would send me outside and I'd always get sick as fuck. After a few trips to the hospital, finally some tests were run and they figured it out. I stayed inside mostly and my parents tried everything to find medicine that would make me better. I think I swallowed more pills than most celebrities do today."

"Anything help?"

"I don't really know," Ember confessed. "I got better, sorta. I've heard of people who've developed or lost allergies, so I guess the same could have happened to me. As it is, I can't be out in high heat long periods of time, but I'm no more worse off than a person whose skin is just really, really sensitive to the heat."

"I guess that explains most of your appearance and concerts being at night," he noted.

"You think?" she asked and rolled her eyes. "It's not that bad I guess. It's not like if I go out in the sun I'll die. I just have to be careful, use sunscreen, stay in the shade if it's possible, drink water. That kind of stuff. My people don't even know about it, and it's not something I ever thought needed to be brought up in one of my interviews."

"So what about the hair?"

"It's just dyed," she answered. "My mom was a hair stylist and blue was my favorite color. She did it once for my as a tenth birthday present, mostly cause I kept bugging her about it and she finally broke down. It looked good on me, so I just kept it like that."

"It does look nice," he agreed.

"What about you?" she asked, mostly cause she wanted to get the conversation off of her. She got tired of talking about herself pretty quickly. She'd rather know something about him, even if he was just some stranger that had let her use his phone.

"Well, not much to tell really," he said. "I grew up here, been here most of my life, except for when I was in Wisconsin for college and a year of football."

"You play football?" she asked.

"Played football," he corrected, his smile now a bit sad. "I was in for a season, but I got tackled pretty hard. My leg got broken and pretty much killed any chance I had of playing with professionals again. Even after it healed, there just wasn't any way I was going to be able to keep up with the games and training. So, I came back home. My friend Kwan hooked me up with a job here, mostly cleaning and everything until I was able to get a license in mixing drinks, and now I'm on of the bartenders. I've been working here now for a few years."

"Wow, I'm sorry," she said.

"Yeah, so was I," he said. "But it's okay. I'm in my hometown, in a job I really actually enjoy a lot, and I still play out by the park every once in a while. It's not like I'm crippled or anything. Life for me is pretty good."

"It's cozy sounding," she said with a small smile.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"You miss it at all?" she asked.

"Of course," he said with a shrug. "I loved playing, doing what I enjoyed and what I was really good at professionally. If I could, I'd go back. But as it is, I know the way things are is still pretty good."

"Yeah, I can understand that," she agreed and smiled softly at him. "You seem like a pretty cool guy."

"I'll tell all my friends you said so," he said lightly.

A sudden sharp rapping at the door caused both of them to look up and see Spectra standing at the door made mostly of glass. She was peering inside and Ember sighed, actually disappointed the conversation was now effectively over. She was a little surprised she'd been enjoying it so much too.

"Guess I'll let you out," he said and grabbed the keys from somewhere behind the bar. The rock star grabbed her stuff and slung them over her arm, nodding.

"Guess so," she said.

They walked over to the door and Dash unlocked it, opening it up for Ember.

"Thanks for letting me use the phone," she said.

"No problem," he replied and looked to Spectra. "Evening."

"Good evening," the manager greeted politely. "Are we ready to go Ember?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm ready," Ember grumbled. She could already feel the bars of the cage snaring her again. She walked out of the bar and to the sleek, red Mustang that her manager drove before turning back to Dash, who still had the door open. Not knowing exactly why, she smiled broadly at him. "I'll come back again sometime. Keep a bottle ready for me."

"I don't know. You didn't tip," he said, his tone teasing.

Ember flipped him off in good nature and slid into the car's passenger's seat before shutting the door. She saw Spectra look back and forth between the two a couple times in a confused manner and she leaned back into the leather seat chuckling.

That guy was pretty okay, in an annoying sort of way. She'd have to make sure to do her best to visit him again if she could Maybe once her deal was done with Vlad she could convince Spectra to let her have a congratulatory drink here. It would definitely be something to look forward to.

End of Chapter One

Okay, well there was the first chapter. I'll be honest, I don't know exactly where or how far I'm going with this, as I only have a few chapters and plot points in my mind at the moment. If anyone has any suggestions, feel free to make them, as this is really mostly for fun.

Also, how does everyone feel about the characterizations? I tried to keep the base personalities the same while making them a little different considering this is an AU. I've never written anything for Ember, Spectra, or Dash (who I think I changed the most, but he is is like 25 in this story as apposed to 14, so I felt he deserved to be matured) before so I would appreciate some feedback. Spectra was pretty fun, despite her only being in a small part of the fic. I imagine as a human, she would still be a bit manipulative (certainly enough to be a business woman) but also pretty sweet like she portrayed herself in the episode where she pretended to be a councilor at Danny's school. And of course, I couldn't resist the bit about her freaking out about her age. Ah Penelope, you poor thing you.


End file.
